Hourglass
by Starlit Skyline
Summary: Oscar stared at the grand clock as it spun and twisted into eternity, undeterred by the tragedy the simple movement of its handles had caused one lonely man.


Hourglass

He stared at the clock as it ticks away, undeterred by his condemning, hateful gaze.

He'd never paid attention to the old thing – so very old, practically ancient – until it had taken away the one thing he swore never to lose again. His child.

Oz was his child – _so small, so fragile, so broken and yet so strong _– and yet he hadn't been able to protect him. He remembered days long gone when he and Zai would sit together on the porch and listen as their wives listed off name after name for their future children. He remembered thinking then, how Oz would have made a wonderful older brother _– so caring, so compassionate and unloved_.

After Sara had died, taking their precious child with them, he'd never remarried –

"_Have you decided on the name yet?" he'd asked, only hours before the end._

_She'd smiled, her lips set in a gentle curve "It's a secret."_

but Zai had. He'd married a woman he didn't love just because –

"_Why? Why are you doing this, Brother? Tell me!" Oscar had demanded, once the news of his brother's new marriage had reached him. Through the grapevine*, no less._

"_I need an heir." Zai had answered, his voice cold and uncaring. Oscar had merely stared, angry and confused._

"_What about Oz?" he'd asked._

_Oscar wasn't sure what had been worse, the emotionless mask that had delivered the words or the venomous sentence itself "That filth is no child of mine."_

He couldn't bear it.

Things had only gotten worse when Oz had found out just how much his father hated him. The boy never would have found out, if Oscar had had any say in things, or at least he'd be told more gently, when Zai wouldn't have the power to shatter worlds and lay little childish fantasies to ruin.

To make matters even worse, once again, Oscar was the last to know. He wouldn't have even found out if Gilbert hadn't gone to him a week after the incident had taken place, on the same day Oscar had returned from an important trip to the West of the land.

"_He's smiling," the little raven had mumbled "but I can tell that he's not happy inside. Even though it's hard to notice."_

Damn it all to Hell! Why couldn't Zai see what was right in front of him? Why couldn't he have appreciated what he'd had?

What neither of them had, now.

"_He's not your child, Oscar. He's nothing."_

But he wasn't. Oz was a little angle with small hands that could anchor grown men, smiles that could brighten the dimmest of rooms and compassion that could ground the man tittering on the edge of oblivion and quell the perverse desire to drown in it. To lose himself to it.

Small hands and angelic smiles. Locked doors and silent tears. A worried and loyal Gilbert and a cheerful, innocent Ada. Those were the things that had made up the persona of fifteen-year-old Oz Vessalius. Those were the things his Uncle was left with.

But for now, Oscar didn't want to think about it.

The widowed man didn't want to picture little Gilbert hiding beneath his sheets, pale as the bandages that adorned his slim chest, crying for a person who would probably never be able to answer back. Oscar knew that feeling, he knew it all to well.

Oscar didn't want to imagine Ada either, sweet and oblivious and how she was probably pouting right now and demanding that her caretaker take her to her big brother so they could play. He dreaded explaining it to her, _lying _to her.

Oscar didn't think he'd ever been scared of anything just as much as that round, six-year-old face. Poor, poor Ada... poor little Gilbert...

How had they deserved this?

How had Oz deserved this?

And then there was the ridiculous accusation Gilbert had shouted upon waking. Oh, and how that conversation had stung.

"_It was Zai."_

_Oscar had blinked, bemused. Distractedly, he ordered the servants to leave the room. When they did, he'd asked "What?"_

"_It was Zai Vessalius." Oscar had never imagined that the kind, perpetually nervous face of Gilbert could hold so much hate. "He threw Oz into the Abyss."_

He didn't want to believe it. It was a groundless accusation, Oscar told himself, but why was it making so much _sense _to him? Why had his family been ripped from him yet again? Why was the world falling apart at the seams yet he seemed to be floating away from it, like a ghost left behind to haunt the ruins of halcyon days and golden ages.

Why were there no small hands and angelic faces to pull him back to the ground again, calling him home and warming his despairing heart.

There were none.

Oscar stared at the grand clock as it spun and twisted into eternity, undeterred by the tragedy the simple movement of its handles had caused one lonely man.

* * *

><p>* - gossip<p>

AN: Okay, I admit, Zai never remarried and there was nothing in the manga to suggest otherwise... but that bit was just my own personal touch. I'm actually really pleased by the way this turned out, I've been wanting to write something about Oscar ever since chapter 80... What do you guy think? Was it any good?


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